Posts
I met a girl.
Sort of.
Well, definitely, in that I DID meet her. And we've got plans to see each other this weekend. (And she wants to see me tonight, but I've got a rehearsal scheduled with The Lord.) But "sort of" in that it's still a very new thing and I don't know where it's going to go.
I met her at the Burlesque show on Saturday. She was an audience member, there to see her friend, Michelle L'Amour, performing in the show. Her group got to the theater late and I nearly wasn't able to seat them. I had 4 open seats and they had 9 bodies. I grabbed stools and a chair from the booth, to make room for them.
After the show, she came up to me and thanked me for the kind consideration. She was grateful that they were able to get into the show. I assured her that it was no problem, and removed from the confines of the show, out of character, I was nervous about the attention I was getting from this very pretty girl. She had such a lovely smile and her eyes were so alive and smart.
I invited her to the bar, for an after show cocktail. She checked with her group and they okayed the deal and she said that she would meet us there. She asked for directions. Going back to talk to her friends, I caught the girls that she was with, smiling at me, from a distance. I had their approval for something exciting that was on the way.
As luck would have it, one of our audience members had himself a little involuntary, gastro-intestinal convulsions and spewed what looked like partially digested Thai (with egg noodles) all over the men's room sink, floor, wall and toilet. I knew, without even asking that it was going to be MY job to clean it up. I passed all of my normal aftershow duties to Hendo and Greg Inda, pulled on latex gloves, grabbed a small truckload of papertowels and spray on cleaners, pulled my bandana over my nose and mouth and went to work. Twenty minutes later, I had a spotless bathroom, but it delayed my getting to the bar.
Which ended up NOT being a problem, as she was still there. She made her way over to me and joined me and my bartender, Sammy, for a shot of chilled vodka. Other people floated around us and chatted at me, but for all I knew, she and I were alone. We talked for an hour straight. And the more I heard from her, the more I liked what I heard. She reads comic books, people. On her own. She loves FABLES and Neil Gaiman. She hated XMen3, but is looking forward to Superman. She INVITED ME TO COME TO WIZARD WORLD (a comic book convention) WITH HER!!! I proposed marriage to her, on the spot.
Instead, she agreed to a date with me on Friday. She's going to see Superman Returns with me and as fate would have it, my MOM is going to be there. I already forewarned her of that. She didn't seem distressed by that.
After we closed the bar down, she invited me to join her friends for a late, late dinner (3pm) at Nookies. They'd all been out drinking all night long and wanted some solid food in their bellies. I had a bowl of oatmeal and a glass of milk. (Nothing too heavy that late at night.) Her friends were really nice (all of the girls were her co-workers, they sell expensive soap and cleansing materials in Lincoln Park). They welcomed me to the table and I made small talk and little jokes. They treated me like a little bit of a celebrity, for having JUST been in the show that they'd just seen. I've heard about people experiences where improvisers are occasionally treated like celebrities, but this was my first taste of it.
All throughout the meal, I would look over at this amazing girl, this smart, articulate, charming, attractive girl and marvel at her. She would catch me looking at her and smile back at me, as if she's always known me and absolutely agreed with me in what I was thinking. And what I was thinking was "This is going to be very, very good."
I don't know where she came from.
I don't know what I might've done to deserve her attention.
But I am determined not to make the same mistakes that I've made in my recent relationships.
I'll chill with the heavy stuff.
I'll be less suspicious and protective of my vulnerabilities.
I'll silence my anxieties.
I'll give her more attention than I've given past girlfriends. Which might mean fewer theater projects, but then a life lived well is infinitely more rewarding than a show well produced.
I'll take the exploration of sex slowly and without expectations.
I'll get to know her well before we make that particular leap together.
I'll be patient and understanding and explore every other, possible avenue, before I allow a fight to break out. Patience. Understanding. I need to remember these things.
And I will begin with the premise that this girl, this normal, human girl with normal, human neurosis, might just be, the love of my life. (And not the temporary phase that I assume most relationships to be.)
Her name is Kelly. She's 25. And I'm afraid that I'm already terribly fond of her.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some sit-ups to get started on.
About 5 million of them.
No comments:
Post a Comment